Page 51 of The Fire

“Oh, please. Same ratio I always use. Could be that this is the first time you’ve eaten themsober.” I rolled my eyes.

Jamie chewed silently, but a moment later, serious brown eyes met mine and he shocked the shit out of me. “Guess I should apologize, huh?”

My eyebrows went up. “For?”

He huffed out a breath. “You know for what. For all the times I went into your place last summer and…”

“Made a scene?”

Jamie ran his tongue over his front teeth and nodded. “Not my proudest moment.” He winced. “Moments.”

He was staring down at the chicken in his hand, so I studied him for a moment, considering how to respond. Part of me wanted to wave a hand and blow it off.No harm done, Jamie. Because there hadn’t been, really. Not to me. And I didn’t want him to think I was whining when I wasnot. But something about the mood—the fire and the laughter—made me sayfuck itand tell him the truth.

“You scared me, a little.”

“Scared you?” He looked up and frowned. “You know I’d never hurt you, Parker.”

“Not on purpose,” I agreed.

“Not even by accident.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say, “But you did.It killed me when you didn’t want me anymore,” but I managed to keep from saying it.Thatmuch honesty wouldn’t help anyone.

And before I could say anything, Jamie continued, “That’s why it pissed me off that you thought I had something to do with the fire at Hoff’s. I wouldn’t do that, Parker.”

His voice was a deep growl and his eyes were on his food, but there was something in his tone that made me wince.

“I know,” I whispered. “Have you ever said something and wished you could take it back the second it was out of your mouth?”

Jamie laughed so hard he collapsed into a fit of coughing and I slapped at his back.

“You’re ruining my apology,” I informed him.

“Sorry.” Jamie sniffed, his eyes watering. “Yeah, Parker. Suffice it to say I’ve felt like thatat leastonce.” There was something in the way he said it that gave me pause, but he pushed at my knee. “Please, finish your apology.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I really am. You… you made it better that night. Being there. Hugging me. Being a friend. And I… I shouldn’t have said that. I never really believed it.”

Jamie nodded. “I hoped it was something like that. I heard you talked to Mitch afterward and told him you’d been in shock at the time.”

I drew my knees up to my chest and scratched at the fabric of my pants. “Least I could do,” I said. “Iwasshocked. And angry, and… I wanted someone to blame. And I guess I was thinking that maybe I didn’t really know you anymore, after the way you came to the bar all those times—”

“Acting like an idiot?” Jamie supplied. “I get it.”

“You reminded me of your dad when you did that. You remember how he used to yell and throw shit at the television? And he never meant to hurt anything, but...”

“He still did? Yeah, I might possibly have a vague memory or twenty,” Jamie said dryly. He sighed. “I stopped drinking. A few months ago.”

“You did? Just like that?”

Jamie nodded. “I figured I should do it while I still could, before I got whacked with the Burke family curse.”

“Drama king.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s not a curse. It’s a disease.”

He blew out a breath. “I know. But I can try not to let it get worse.”

“And does it… is it… hard? Are you going to meetings? Or?” I had no idea how to talk about this shit, and it suddenly occurred to me that I really should.

“Surprisingly, not that hard. I went to a meeting in Camden last fall around the time when Shane…” He cleared his throat, and I nodded in understanding. “That was a mind-fuck. So I went for a few weeks then, and then again a few times around Christmas. Once last week.” He shrugged.